In Which Raoul Goes Insane
by llamas-alpacas-yaks
Summary: Poor Raoul, everybody picks on him. He has a crazed girlfriend, Christine, and she has a crazed stalker, The Phantom. He can never remember the names of the owners of the Opera to which he is patron, and has to listen to Gerard Butler sing all the time. Even worse, he knows that no matter what happens, Love Never Dies is still coming next. PARODY of the MOVIE.
1. Chapter 1

{In which Raoul goes insane}

Prologue

R

It had been years since I set foot in the opera house. It has stayed dilapidated for who knows how long now. As soon as I heard news of an auction set to take place there, I immediately requested to go. Probably out of pity, they let me go without a strait jacket. Everything was covered in cobwebs, including it seemed the old woman already waiting there. That must explain why it smelled like road kill and old lady. Ew . . . taxidermy.

Anyway, I just happened to walk in on lot six-six-six. I was let down when they revealed it to be that dumb chandelier from my glory days. (I was hoping for a poodle, of course.)

"Restored it, we did," the auctioneer said to his audience of exactly two bidders, "using the latest Jedi technology."

He must have known the aging lady and I weren't interested in his 'padawan mission', as he called it, so he pulled some fancy pyro on us. I went into a flashback.

* * *

R

Due to my complete lack of things to do, I have decided to donate money I have no other use for to the Opera Populaire. The new owners have promised me a rousing gala performance tonight of, what else, Hannibal. Now as much as I'd rather be at home reading Les Miserables again, tonight is not the night. Things like that don't find you a lover, do they? (Well, not in this century anyway.) Maybe people watching will be worth my time.

I walked through the back stage area the day of the gala towards the stage. On my way, I passed a man painting backdrops; he whispered, ". . . paint a happy little tree . . . and this will be a mighty mountain . . ." I gave him a quizzical look – he looks like a Bob, I think – and upon realizing I was gawking continued on.

I stood between the new owners of the opera, Andy and Farmer, I think, as they introduced me to the cast. Their lead was about as angry as a hippo in a tutu, so I made my haste in leaving.

Later that night, after finally reaching the barricade, I was forced to watch the stupid opera. Hugo haters. Hey, they replaced the hippo with a woman. Is that Christine I see? My mom? Or is it Bertha? Ah, why can't I forget that last one . . . it must be my little lotte. Mom isn't that pretty. And Bertha was blonde.

She didn't look at me, even when I tried to sing with her. I didn't appreciate it, but I planned to go see her afterwards.

C

"Meg GO AWAY I'm crying over my dead father!"

"Christine, he's been gone for a long time . . . and besides you'll see him again in the 25th Anniversary Concert."

"No I won't – Andrew replaced me AGAIN. With the little mermaid, AGAIN."

R

The owner dudes, Aldo and Farley, gave me looks that I also didn't appreciate.

"Buzz off, Dumbledore," I spat, and they went away as I entered the girl's room.

"Raoul! You're here? What happened to that institution they sent you to?"

I ignored her last comment, "Yeah, why not? You're beautiful . . ."

She sent a death glare worthy of a punk rocker on Halloween.

"Your singing's great too, of course."

She laughed, "I've had a very good tutor. Very strict."

"Wanna go party?"

"I can't – he'll be angry."

"Your tutor? I see him driving round town with the girl I love and I'm like FORGET HIM!"

Woo-hoo-hoo! This chick needs to get out more. "You know, I'm sorry I can't afford a Ferrari, but that don't mean I can't get you there!" I left to ready a carriage wondering once more what Ferraris and Atari had to do with heart break, but I digress. Those haven't even been invented yet!

Passing a person dressed as a cat in the hallway, I returned to Christine's door and found it locked. Then the organ music started.

G

"Now Raoul, why ever would a man in the hallway have been dressed as a cat?"

He fidgeted slightly as he attempted to form an answer. It was hard to see him so undone, but someone needed to be his psychiatrist.

"I'm not sure; perhaps it was Andrew."

C

"What are you wearing? Halloween is like six months away, dude. Get with the times."

The guy didn't look amused. In fact, he showed no expression at all. What an actor.

"I am your angel of music," he said gruffly.

"You really think I'm gonna fall for that? My father is the angel of music . . . and if he isn't, he would have picked someone way better than you."

"Come to your angel of music," he added again.

"Wait, I think I hear Raoul at the door," I said.

As I walked I heard shattering glass and turned around just as he grabbed my hand and pulled me into the tunnel.

"Raoul! It's locked! Get an axe and yell "Here's Johnny"!"

"What?" the muffled voice came back to her.

"Pull a Jack Nicholson!"

"I can't hear you Christine!"

"Try a hand grenade!"

"Okay! I'll go look for the key!"

The Phantom joined in with me as I sighed, "Idiot."

R

So I was looking for the key to Christine's heart . . . uh, I mean door. Yep DOOR. Definitely.

Anyway first I looked for the cat person, cause he might have seen it. Couldn't find him. Then I tried to find one of the Giry's – also not working. Finally I found the only other person apparently in the building, the painter, Bob.

"We don't make mistakes, just have happy accidents," he coolly told me as I approached him.

"Got any idea where a tiny key with a huge tassel might be?"

"Not a clue, neighbor."

"Who do you think you are, Mr. Rodgers?"

"I'm not Mr. Rodgers, I'm Bob Ro-"

"I DON'T CARE WHO YOU ARE I NEED THAT KEY!"

"Now, now, there's no need for an all caps rage . . . the guy with the weird mask and cape took it."

You have got to be kidding me.


	2. Chapter 2

**AN - Thank you nibblesfan, lydiathetigeropean, and newbornphanatic for reviewing the first chapter! Really I'm happy if this made somebody other than me laugh no matter what. In this chapter, Christine takes the stage as a boy and Raoul has minor character derailment. And Gerard sings a lovely tune for us.**

**Just to make it clear, the future psychiatrist is technically me, but she's only in there to show that Raoul's actions never made any sense in the first place.  
**

**Oh, and if anyone wants to request jokes or anything for later . . . feel free to say. **

**L-A-Y**

* * *

{In which Raoul goes insane}

C

OMG THERE'S LIKE ARMS COMING OUT OF THE WALLS.

"Hey Phantom why are there arms holding your candelabras?"

"I'm not the Phantom – you may call me angel, crazy psychopath pedophile, or Erik."

"Okay . . . so crazy psychopath pedophile, ah . . ."

"Anything but that."

"Whatever _Erik._"

"Shush, it's my turn to sing . . ."

WOAH PRETTY HORSEY.

"Hey Phantom how'd you get a horse down here? And isn't that the same horse that-"

"No."

After he pointlessly led me around on the horse for like 30 seconds, I hopped off and we got into a boat.

WOAH AWESOME GUITAR LICK.

"Hey Phantom did you hear that guitar in the background?"

"Yes," he said, looking down at me, "easily the best part of the song when paired with the backstage choir."

Yep, awesome.

"Oh crap."

"What's wrong; was it the horse?"

"No we took a wrong turn!"

"Can't you just turn around?"

"The canal isn't wide enough for a U-turn."

"Then back up."

"What if the Crocodile sees us?"

"Then we'll have a big lipped alligator moment."

"Oh . . . Okay hit one last high note first."

After I did as he asked for the twentieth time, I rasped, "You know I really don't think this musical's gonna catch on."

G

"I apologize for leaving out Music of the Night."

"It's okay Raoul, I'm sure it's painful to remember a scene you weren't in."

"No it's painful to listen to Gerard Butler."

R

"Raoul! I saw the passageway!"

"Meg? What do you mean passageway?"

"That Mask and Cape Man used with Christine, silly."

"SQUEE! Can you show me?"

"Well, I think they replaced the mirror already . . ."

And thus was my life for days. Find lead. Chase lead. Find out lead has already gone cold.

What an Inspector Javert.

C

TOTALLY AWESOME EAGLE-SCALLOP-BED-THINGY!

"Hey Phantom, I know you're a creep and all, but can I take this bed with me when I go back?"

"Going back?" He burst out crying.

Suddenly he stopped. That was way fake, "You can NEVER go back."

"Why Not?"

"Because you've seen this," he cackled pulling off his mask.

"That is the stupidest deformity I've ever seen, no one would believe me if I told them."

"Fine you can go back . . ."

R

Shortly after my stern chase I received a note in my gym locker. I immediately assumed Abernathy and Finnick were behind it, but they were quick to tell me it wasn't them.

Then the hippo returned claiming I wrote some letter she found in _her_ gym locker. After we fixed that problem, the Girys appeared with the best news I'd heard this chapter.

"Da'ae has returned."

"YES!"

I started jumping up and down like a little school girl playing hopscotch.

"Vicomte," Madame Giry drawled, rolling her eyes.

"YEAH?"

"Shut up and stop tap dancing."

"Sorry . . . Can I see her?"

"No, she wishes to see no one. No one but Meg and I of course. Oh and she had a note."

"Oh crap," Falafel exclaimed as he began to read it, "They tried a U-turn."

Everyone but me collectively gasped.

"Did the croc get them?" Appalachia questioned.

"No, it didn't get Steve either, he says he still wants Box 5. Is that the Cracker Jacks or the Vanilla Wafers?"

"Cut to the chase," hippo warned.

"He wants you to play the cross-dressing role."

"NEVER! I AM LEAVING!"

"Oh no you aren't; don't you want a chance to make them go ga-ga over you?"

"Alright."

I was feeling rather bored, so I asked what else it said.

"Not much."

Figures.

"Okay, well, I guess I'll sit in Box 5 tonight."

G

"Now Raoul, didn't you say the Phantom wanted Box 5 to himself?"

"Well . . . he may have mentioned it in passing . . ."

"Alright, then what possessed you to sit there in the first place?"

"Mmm . . . I dunno . . ."

I sighed. "Continue with the story Vicomte."

C

DEAR DEAD FATHER – I LOOK LIKE I BELONG IN RENT!

"Meg, are you sure I look okay . . ."

"Yes Christine, why are you worried other than the fact that we are blatantly disobeying the murderous, crazy, psychopath pedophile phantom?"

"No I just don't want Raoul to think I look like a guy."

Meg suppressed a giggle, but I pretended not to notice.

"He isn't _that_ thick is he?"

"I'm not sure, I'd say he's at least 50% fop, 25% dandy, and 10% random hot West End theater actor."

Sorta like that random dude who flashed Carlotta earlier today. Except for the hot part.

R

Ew, I thought Christine was kidding when she told me she was more like a boy. I mean, we were kids then, but still . . . I'm glad I didn't tap that . . . never mind.

"Hey idiot."

"AH IT'S MAN WITH MASK AND CAPE!"

"Shut up, idiot. And that's Mr. Mask and Cape to you. Now why, fool, are you in my seat?"

"I, uh . . . um, er well you see . . ."

"It doesn't matter; I don't want to kill you in front of everyone here, so I'll wait a while on that one . . . have you seen Joe Bucket?

"You mean Joseph Bouquet?"

"Yeah him."

"Over there," I directed, pointing to the area above the stage.

"Thanks pretty boy."

"No problem."

_Five minutes later_

FML why didn't I throw him off the balcony? That was the Phantom of the Opera! If he was important enough to the plot for the whole damn musical to be named after him; if he was important enough to be called Mr. Mask and Cape; then he was important enough to push off a balcony like a wannabe John Wilkes Booth.

OMG I've started to talk to myself.


	3. Chapter 3

**A.N. – I greatly apologize for the two months it took me to update. I have been swamped with school work until now, but I'm taking advantage of my break. I have a lot of the end finished, but the middle is still being fleshed out. Thank you nibblesfan, newbornphanatic, and crazyperson2671 for your reviews of the last chapter!**

**In this chapter, Christine discusses her favorite things, Raoul eats some questionable food, and Erik admits his love of the internet. And I eat pie. You're welcome to a virtual slice if you'd like.**

**L-A-Y**

C

ROOFTOP!

I like rooftops. And snow. So I guess I'm pretty lucky right now other than the fact that someone just died and that Raoul fellow followed me up here. He must know I'm a girl then, right? Right?

R

"Yo, can we pause a sec? I am out of shape!"

How do they expect us to sing a song after running all over creation for the sake of filling a two minute gap in storytelling? Do they expect me to juggle too?

"Raoul, the phantom scares the crap outta me."

"Girl, you really are crazy! That guy doesn't exist; so that doesn't explain the letters, Bouquet's death, or you being gone for weeks with no alibi, but it's still impossible. "

"Raoul, I know it sounds crazy, but I can't lie to you. You have more gel in your hair than I do. Besides, I couldn't have dreamt up some phantom. I'm not that emo. Plus, I thought you just met the guy . . ."

"No more talk of darkness! Forget it happened Christine! You are safe with me, aren't you?"

She gave me a look that either said 'I'm trying to figure out if you're Killian Donnelly or Hadley Fraser' or 'let's run away together'. I couldn't be sure.

"Well . . . I guess you're okay." Before I knew what was going on, we were spinning around and cuddling and all that cute coupley stuff.

We needed to stop though, because the week old quiche I had eaten at lunch was not staying down after such dizzying behavior.

G

"I don't even want to know how you came across 'week old quiche'."

"Nor do I."

I quickly put down the pumpkin pie I was eating and told him to resume his story.

E

That . . . imbecile.

I stood here, barely hidden behind a useless foam prop and froze the visible part of my face off for nothing! I was expecting entertainment, not bad acting and faux snow.

That fop.

He'll rue this day.

And you! Stupid movie-goer! You must endure the mournful power of my voice.

G

"Even flowers are afraid of the guy," Raoul insisted from the chaise in my office.

"Really? Is that even possible?"

"You should see the injustices that man has dealt to plant kind . . ."

C

LIKE RAOUL AND I ARE TOTALLY LIKE OFFICIAL!

"Meg! He knew I was a girl all along!"

"Are you sure he knew? Or did he only say he did after you told him?"

R

It's a pretty good day for Raoul.

I mean, so what if that Cape kid is actually the Phantom and is trying to kill me and my girlfriend? At least I finally have a girlfriend! And a life!

C

OMG ITS ACT II!

R

Amway and Fairfax decided to throw this ginormous masquerade ball for New Years.

When I heard that, I figured it would be a lovely, colorful affair – free of drunken stage hands, bland choreography, and hippos. People would dress up in tasteful fashions and try not to jinx the apparent disappearance of Mr. Mask and Cape. No one would give me the "what is your problem" look in the hallway or mutter things about my "lack of sanity" when they think I can't hear.

I try, people. I try.

Anyhoodles, we were dancing around in these terribly extravagant costumes completely constricting our movement and ruining my dreams of color. Almost everyone wore the same mask! Chris had demanded I wore this gold-embroidered-thingy; I, the good suitor, obliged. (Yet, neither of us wore masks. Or black and white. The costume department must have given up on us.)

"Now Raoul, we can't tell them we're engaged."

"Why not?"

"It would make far too much sense, sweetheart."

"You don't make ANY sense!"

Suddenly, the flash mob started up and I couldn't help myself. Now that's fun; no whack-jobs (other than myself), no monkeys (sort of), and absolutely no ghosts. Just dancing and pretending you didn't spend months with the other people in the room just to learn it and make it look good.

Of course, _somebody_ always comes around to ruin my fun, but I find it rather horrifying that the old Phantom had to barge in on _everybody_.

"You fools! You thought I was done? It's only the start of the second act! And then _Love Never Dies _starts!"

"The HORROR!" I heard Meg scream in the back. I imagine she then ran out weeping like she knew exactly would happen if the Phantom allowed his production of 'Paint Never Dries' or whatever he called it to be staged.

"Oh yes! And Chris, dahling, you really mustn't continue to leave me . . . That makes me feel angry."

Wow . . . when did Andrew start stealing lines from high school productions?

POOF.

That's it, I'm going after him.

"I ain't 'fraid of no ghosts!"

Even with this lousy attempt to make references to the book, the Phantom still manages to ruin his image with this lovely mirrored room. Mainly because Madame Giry knows how to get in and out.

"Listen pretty boy, that guy cray."

"I love this lamp, wherever did you get it?"

"Vicomte, I am attempting to give you backstory here."

"Are these ballet shoes yours? Are they Capezio's?"

"Dude, do you want story time or not?"

"Oh I love story time!"

E

Is it a good thing that every day I look at my hands and wonder; can I juggle? Sometimes I take my mask off, hold it in those hands and say; 'maybe I should paint it black' knowing Andrew would never let me do it regardless. I already know it's bad that the only cure I've ever found for writers block is playing the opening chords of Never Gonna Give You Up, thus RickRolling myself and jumpstarting my creative process. As you can see, I really need to get out more.

Since I can't really do that, I've taken it upon myself to scaring the little ballet girls in my spare time. Well, that and watching cat videos on youtube.

R

"That's enough madame."

She gave me a bemused smile, "But he hasn't even started writing Epic Rap Battles yet."

My worst fears were confirmed.

He's a total monster.


	4. Chapter 4

**Hello! Okay, so I'm not even gonna make up an excuse for my lack of update over the last several months. Thanks to all the reviewers! Really, if it weren't for you, fanfics would never get finished. . . this chapter's a little short, but it works better with the story to pause here. **

**The following contains My Little Ponies, random sword fights, and title drops. Reader discretion is advised. Enjoy! -LAY**

* * *

C

FRIENDSHIP IS MAGIC!

Ponies are pretty awesome. They're friendly, they'll eat your vegetables when you don't want to, and they'll take you to visit your dead father. Or other pre-mortem family and friends. Same difference.

I don't know why Raoul is being so uptight about my security detail. Really, the only things that can possibly harm me at a cemetery are ghosts, zombies, random sword fights, snowed-over tree roots, ice, crazy psychopath pedophiles, and cry-belting. What could possibly go wrong?

R

I'm not sure why, but Christine won't share a bed with me. She claims it's because I snore, but . . . wait, where did she go?

Day-um! It must be Mr. Mask and Cape again!

I must go out barely dressed into the cold and snow on horseback with this strange, pointed metal object that I have no idea how to use. Maybe it's for nose-picking. No? Suit yourself.

C

WEEPING ANGELS!

You know, I never wondered (until now, that is) why my dad, a violinist in the mid-nineteenth century, has such an elaborate mausoleum. Woah! The doors open on their own! I swear, this place gets more and more like a Rite Aid every day!

"Hey kid! Want some candy?"

"Hey dad! You sound a lot like that Phantom fellow . . . oh, do you have any peanut butter cups?"

R

"Mask and Cape, today is not your day!"

"Oh great. The fop again."

"Raoul! Don't just let the pony go! THEY'RE MAGICAL!"

Attempting to ignore my girlfriend's little pony spasm; I concentrated on not letting tall, dark and snarky over here hit me. It looks a little like fencing.

Ow!

"Raoul! What were you thinking wearing a white shirt? You know what happens when people wearing white shirts get into sword fights!"

Sword fight? I'm screwed.

G

"So let me get this straight – you went to the cemetery?"

"Yup."

"Then you got into a fight with the Phantom?"

"That's what they tell me."

"And how did you escape?"

C

ERMAHGERD THAT BLOOD STAIN WILL NEVER COME OUT!

"Hey Phantom! Like, could you try not to maim him too badly? His patronage to the opera is the only reason kids like you and me have a place to live, ya know . . ."

E

That insolent girl. How dare she try and interrupt my fencing practice! Oh and pick this loser's ponytail over my fancy wig.

Before I could tell what was happening, the dandy had thrown me on the ground and was attempting to form a snowball, presumably to throw at my face.

"I'm not gonna testify for you in court Raoul, so you better not . . . "

This is war, home-skillet.

R

"Guys, a light bulb just popped on above my head!"

"What's a light bulb?" Finland asked. It's a good point.

"Go on," Atlanta said, pushing his partner backwards into the hippo.

"Instead of me being a sitting duck, we'll get the police involved! I mean, they obviously would've done a better job on those murder investigations had we actually told them they even happened!"

"It's a lovely idea. Perhaps, to add to the drama, we will make it part of the show . . ."

"I don't think Andrew would like that."

One of these days, Andrew will listen to us. I swear to you, he will . . . hear the people sing!

G

"That's the wrong musical Raoul."

"Must you point that out EVERY TIME?"

Yes.

R

"Honey, I don't think we should go to this opera."

"Why not?"

"The guards! They're everywhere!"

"It's part of the show!"

I wish it were part of the show . . .

You know, reader, I have a conjecture to present. I think that Mr. Mask and Cape is actually Voldemort.

I mean, the mask is to hide the snake head, and the cape is actually the invisibility cloak.

No? Hm, well it makes perfect sense to me . . . perhaps Christine will know.

C

TITLE DROP.

"I'm sorry Raoul, but I think you are going insane."

"Christine, there's no kill like overkill. Trust me."

I don't like the sound of that.

(And if the Phantom is Voldemort, we're screwed anyway.)

(Legit, broski.)


End file.
